


Things Not Yet Said

by vitaldose



Series: Things Not Yet Said [1]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12429330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitaldose/pseuds/vitaldose
Summary: The Inquisitor is dying.





	Things Not Yet Said

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently halfway through the second chapter, who knows if I'll ever finish it.
> 
> Varya is Din'ans sister, in this timeline we have two inquisitors, they share the mark because they both picked up the sphere at the same time. I mean, why not right?

Din'an could never get used to Halamshiral; which was odd as he'd outfitted his quarters in Orleasian finery the moment he'd made enough coin. The city and it's inhabitants, the Winter Palace and its gaudy facade were all spitting in the face of what the city had once been. As a child he'd dreamed of returning the kingdom to the Elves, giving them back what had been taken from them as it were. The stories the keeper told about Halamshiral and Arlathan had inspired him at a very young age, inspiration that caused his clan more trouble than many thought he was worth. Too many times would they have to send hunters out to find Din'an, usually retrieving him from Chantry libraries or walking amongst the Elves of the alienages asking questions of their leaders; a habit he kept up with when intersecting with other Dalish clans. He wanted to know how other Elves lived, he wanted to hear their stories, to learn from them and add them to his clans story. He wanted knowledge, because knowledge was power and power was what they needed if they were ever going to reclaim their empire. Although she generally agreed with his sentiments his sister said he was living in the past and needed to face the fact that the empire was beyond long gone, to which he usually told her to go do something she was good at- like hit something- which of course commonly ended with him and a black eye. 

It was ironic that even with these dreams he'd fallen for a human- one from Tevinter at that. It had been a relief when they found out that Tevinter wasn't entirely at fault for the fall of the empire; although the fact that the fault happened to lay with the Elves didn't do much to soften the blow. He wished that Abelas had been more giving with the information, because for him the well left him with more questions than answers. His sister Verya on the other hand had drank from the well while he and Morrigan argued, giving her insight in to things Din'an had only dreamed about. Dorian and Solas had to hold him back as she submerged herself, he could barely hear their screams of protest as his mind became linked to his sisters through the mark they shared; although he couldn't hear the voices of the well he could hear her speaking- in Elvhen. It furthered his confusion when he too began to speak ancient Elven just in time to watch the water disappear and his sister stand slightly bewildered in the middle of it. He remembered clearly screaming out “Verya, enasal!” and with all of his strength pulled out of their grip and ran to his sister who was speaking in rapid Elvhen. They didn't have time to discuss things at that moment as because Corypheus was on their tail and they had to move out quickly, but he knew at that moment there was no going back.

Solas had been angry and from what he could tell had been genuinely afraid for Verya's safety, it didn't stop Din'an from wanting to punch him and for once Verya had to become the peace keeper; it had not been his finest moment. They immediately sent word to their clans first, Eli, who also happened to be Din'an's best friend, confidant and the only other person he knew who spoke fluent Elvhen. He was sure to write in their tongue so that only he could read it. Eli, of course, was there within a few weeks- Din'an had wondered then if he'd grown wings and flown. The three of them spent hours discussing the well, Mythal and Abelas “His name means sorrow in the common tongue” Eli had commented gravely; Din'an wished that he could have taken the well, if anyone in the world deserved that knowledge it was Eli. He noticed during this time that Solas would hover, he spoke Elvhen but how much Din'an didn't know.

Dorian had come to him that night after the Temple of Mythal, confessed his fears and apologized for holding him back from the well. He understood what it had meant to him and how much it hurt to be on the cusp of having that knowledge and losing it. Verya respected it of course and carried the well with honor, especially after encountering Asha'bellanar- Mythal herself- in the fade; Morrigan had been faintly relieved that Verya had done what she'd done then, but Din'an still found himself jealous. She'd never been the scholar, not like he and Eli, she'd dreamed with them sure but she never seemed as involved and part of him believed she didn't deserve it. Dorian had helped him realize maybe that's why she did deserve it, maybe Din'an's quest for the power to return the Elves to their former glory would have tainted it. He was too ambitious and too greedy to respect Mythal's well the way it was meant to be respected and he had to remind himself daily to take himself down a peg.

The courtyard of the Winter Palace was uncharacteristically empty with the parade over, and the festivities taking place within the palace itself, Din'an had time to get away. He wondered if his disappearance was causing a scandal and felt sorry for Josephine as he sat watching the moon reflect in the pool of one of the palaces many fountains. He was honestly terrified of water and his travels had caused him to wade through more rivers than he'd ever done while living with the Dalish; it of course had surprised him at the temple when he was ready to jump straight in and submerge himself. He waved his hand through the water and watched the glow of the mark light up the fountain, it eased the pain for a moment.

“Copper for your thoughts Inquisitor?” Din'an's head shot up to view his spymaster staring down at him with a gentle smile on her face. He was never sure how much he could trust Leliana but she'd been more than just an adviser, she'd been a friend on those nights he couldn't sleep and an ear for his most difficult admissions; he felt slightly guilty for not supporting her for Divine, but his own selfish need to keep her close had forced his hand. He sighed and shook the water from his arm, wiping the extras on his coat “Josephine would kill you if she saw you do that.” He laughed softly and looked up to the moon, the light accenting his light brown eyes keeping the glow away; he knew that the way Elves eyes looked at night tended to make humans very uneasy. Leliana sat down next to him with an unladylike “Oomph” and placed a hand on his knee.

“I didn't want it to have to come to all this” he finally said, placing a slender hand atop hers “the Inquisition exists to keep people safe but all we're managing to do these days is scare nobles.” He squeezed her hand as he finished his sentence, his heart suddenly in his chest. He'd given his whole being to the Inquisition, everything he'd been before the mark was a footnote in the history that they were writing; and in some cases rewriting. Part of him wondered what books would say of his early life, would they know he'd been an orphan? That his name meant death? Would it matter to his story in the long run?

“Not that you don't enjoy that” she replied, laughter hanging at the end of each word.

“Nobility have a tendency to spook like rats beneath a hut when exposed” he removed his hand from hers and stood up to stretch his back “have the people began to talk?” 

“The moment you headed for the door” she tilted her head “you could have at least left out the back.”

“What and spoil their gossip? Perish the thought” he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder with a sly grin, before turning to fully face her, his expression unchanged “I wonder if they've noticed that I've given up.”

“Oh? On what?” Leliana knew, of course, but she wasn't so disconnected that she'd stop the Inquisitor mid thought. She always thought it odd that he counted her amongst the handful of people he called friends, he was mistrustful of most everyone and those he could trust he kept at arms length. But there had been so many nights she'd find him perched outside of her tower, staring out in to the wilderness beyond Skyhold needing to release complicated thoughts and having no one to turn to. She also found it odd that she wanted to be that person for him- it wasn't love, but something deeper, something more akin to family; it was a feeling she hadn't experienced since the Warden. 

“On this whole charade” he laughed “I no longer have the patience to play the game and my fearlessness upsets the balance. It surprises me that Verya of all people continues to be the one whom the nobles flock to, she seems to understand better how to navigate them.” He understood how he simply was tired of having to do so; placating those who sat so high above the rest was, in his mind, no longer a priority. They had to be audacious he saw that now- but none of the others, save Commander Cullen, agreed with the sentiment. Even his own sister who'd once been the loudest voice in the room had told him to stand down multiple times. She blamed his new found fearlessness on Dorian, claiming he had corrupted the once humble scholar; he reminded her that he always was the first to speak and the last to leave but it fell on nostalgic ears, colored by how she remembered him, not how he'd always been. Not to say that she didn't adore Dorian- because she did- she even approved of the influence he had on him. But she needed her brother to stay calm and to be the voice of reason and he could only be one, not both. 

“Inquisitor you and I both know that to win here is to beat them at their own game, by giving up you show your weakness and at a time we can not afford” she was stern but careful, not wanting to upset him further “the nobles, they are like wolves.”

“Wolves have loyalty” he replied with a laugh “the Orleasians are only loyal to themselves and the Fereldens? They are more like cats than the dogs they worship” he began to pace “We have to appease the Orleasians and convince the Fereldens that we are not their enemy, even after all we did for the them.” He was well aware of Lelianas loyalty to King Alistair, as the queen had been the Warden that united Ferelden during the blight. “Does he feel pressure to agree with his advisers? This Teagan he sends as an ambassador, does he pressure the king due to familial ties?”

“King Alistair generally does as he pleases, at least when Queen Eliza is away” she replied with a smile “but it certainly seems that way, the country is up in arms and he has to keep them happy and if that means threatening war- if I was in his position I don't think I'd see another way.” 

“We went in to the fade to save the Warden Commander for them, does that not prove our loyalty?”

“The queen did have you pinned to a wall a foot off the ground before you agreed Inquisitor” Leliana remembered the day clearly, she'd been sending ravens out for Varric when an explosion of voices in the great hall caused her to come running. The queen had stormed the gates with nothing more than herself and a few guards, she was fully armored, unexpected (as the last anyone had heard she'd been in the deep roads) and very very angry. Standing behind her however was a sight even less anticipated: The Arishok. A Qunari she'd known as Sten during the blight, who upon returning to Par Vollen, and after the events of Kirkwall, had become the new leader of the Qunari people’s army. She'd expected Zevran of course, Colt Tabris had been his husband after all, he'd arrived a day before and attempted to blend in, she said nothing but she was sure he knew, that she knew. This whole debacle had started because the Warden Commander Tabris had sacrificed himself in the fade to allow the others to escape. Colt had been one of the three Wardens that fought the Archdemon at the battle of Denerim before the Queen delivered that final blow; he also just happened to be Queen Eliza's most trusted friend. 

“That was- embarrassing” he rubbed his forehead with a contemplative look “we had no idea what his importance was, no one could have known-”

“I knew” she replied 

“Well of course” if he'd thought to ask, Leliana might have helped diffuse the situation before it ever occurred. But he didn't and she couldn't have known that the Queen would hear of her friends disappearance as far as she was in the deep roads. Leliana was a fantastic spy master, but her eyes and ears had not been able to track the queen down before she came storming through their doors. 

“Before you met up with them in Crestwood he sent me a letter asking me very earnestly to keep his identity a secret, maybe it was to protect us I do not know. Colt he-” she laughed “he's always been like that. When we first met he was so uninterested in what we were doing, he'd been recruited by the wardens at the same time as Eliza, he'd had no real choice in the matter.” A look of warm nostalgia ran across Lelianas face, it was brief but clear “She and Duncan found him being perused by mercenaries, Duncan had insisted they stay out of it, Eliza refused to listen. She's always been very sensitive about Elf's rights and to see this young man at what felt like the end of his life being attacked by humans, she simply could not sit back and let it happen. It would take quite some time before he learned to trust her, but when he did they were inseparable.”

“She'd called him her brother” Din'an recalled “at least that's what I heard as the blood rushed to my ears” Leliana laughed “my pain amuses you?”

“You are not the first man I witnessed her lift above the floor Inquisitor, I once saw her tackle an Ogre” she raised her eyebrows “and I am not joking.”

“Then she was being kind to me.”

“Indeed.” 

“Either way” Din'an sighed “we went in to the fade to retrieve him for her and yet here we are having to convince their ambassador that we are not the bad guys. We've been nothing but helpful yet we are still labeled radicals, it's as if they are using their fear of us as an excuse to ignore their own troubles.”

“That may be true Inquisitor” Leliana stood with a groan “but we still have to play their game, just for a little longer, now come back to the celebration I hear their bringing out the cakes soon” she smiled, but something told Din'an she honestly couldn't care if he came back to the party; but she understood how this all worked better than the rest of them and if he didn't come back Verya would be stuck pulling duty for both of them.

“Give me a few minutes I promise I'll be there to drop at least one plate” Leliana bowed and headed back toward castle gently shaking her head. As soon as she was out of sight he grabbed his forearm and grimaced. He didn't want to give her more to worry about and it wasn't as if he hadn't fell to his knee's in pain before them before, he'd lied however and promised it had passed; but it hadn't and with every passing day the mark spread and the pain worsened. The one person in the world that could possibly help was gone without a trace though- he imagined if Solas ever did show up again he'd find himself on the other side of Din'an's fist; first he'd broken his sisters heart, then he'd left without a word, these were unforgivable sins in his book. 

Instead of heading back in like he'd promised, he decided to take a stroll around the grounds; he knew them as well as he knew Skyhold, but they never failed to impress. Though the old anger at their construction was still there, he simultaneously couldn't help but marvel at the vibrant topiary's and fountains that brought the area to life. Even he could appreciate such feats of engineering. Heading up the stairs past the spa another spike of pain rolled through his arm and in to his chest, he gritted his teeth and fell to the ground, nearly missing the last step “Creators be dammed” he groaned as his vision started to fade. He heard a familiar voice ring out across the causeway but the pain wouldn't allow him to focus on who it could be; he closed his eyes and tried to direct his energy on something far away. Meditation wasn't a commonly used tool but the stress of his position had caused him to seek out new ways of relaxing, he had to or Verya was sure to kill him by their third week. He felt a gentle hand touch his face, so he focused on that, it felt warm and familiar and he prayed that the owner of the hand wasn't a gossiping noble. After a moment he was able to listen to the voice who was whispering gentle words of encouragement as the hand stroked his cheek, and when he regained his vision he saw two eyes he hadn't seen in far too long “Dorian.”

“Amatus” he exhaled “thank the maker” although he'd been speaking he hadn't managed to breathe the entire time. It had been a year since he'd seen his beloved and this was not the way he wanted their... rekindling to go “Darling, what happened?”

“It's-” he released his hand, the marks glow having disappeared almost entirely “-nothing, it's nothing.”

“This is not nothing” he replied in that stern way Din'an adored “people don't just fall down in pain and damn their gods for nothing.” 

“Elven thing, you'd have to grow up Dalish to understand” he tried to make light, but his stomach was still in knots. He wasn't ready to explain it to him, but then again how do you tell the person you love that you were dying? “I'm fine-” he stayed on his knee's, because standing up just wasn't in the cards yet “-now that you're here I'm fine.”

“That's terribly saccharine” Dorian smiled “can you stand?”

“What's wrong with kneeling?”

“Fine for chantry sisters and ladies of the night and I am afraid that you've torn a hole in your trousers” he tickled the hole in Din'an's pants “and I don't think torn trousers are in the dress code, come now-” he pushed his arm underneath the thin Elven mans shoulders and began to lift. Din'an groaned, his whole body had ceased during the attack and it now felt as if he'd been running for days. 

“Dorian- Dorian!” He exclaimed, pain evident in his voice “Emma lath, ar lath ma and thank you, but I can't” he felt so helpless, like a Halla stuck in the mud “I can't.” The wind picked up suddenly, blowing out a few of the lanterns and leaving them sitting in the dark; Din'an had no trouble seeing but he imagine Dorian was not quite as gifted.

“This was not how I'd imagined my entrance to be you know, the wind billowing my cape and you rushing in to my arms were part of it but in my head it was all a little more grand” he searched the darkness for a laugh or even to feel a smile, but instead was greeted with silence “Amatus please you're frightening me” his voice was shaky.

“I don't mean to” Din'an whispered.

“Why didn't you tell me, your letters always seemed so cheerful and hopeful, nothing about whatever it is that- this- is” he'd eased them back to the ground but he didn't let go of his grip.

“It's nothing” he repeated, unable to believe even himself “it's a short sickness, it will pass”. He lied, lies upon lies upon lies, piling higher and higher with every day; lies to himself, lies to his friends, lies to his lover. He was fine, he'd say, it will pass, but it hadn't and it wouldn't- he was dying and he had no way to stop it. “I was a sick child, I probably caught it from dealing with you Shems for so long”  
another lie, a joke to kick him off his scent.

“You're doubling over in pain and can barely stand, this isn't what I'd call a common cold, have you been to a healer? There are so many at Skyhold-”

“I have and it will pass” he assured him, slowly regaining his strength “so stop your fussing and help me up.”

“A moment ago you were pleading me not to” Dorian knitted his brows “now you wish to stand? Please Amatus make up your mind, I can't deal with this indecision.” The banter was what kept them from falling to pieces, a joke about things one should never joke about to keep the darkness from closing in. There had been so many nights at Skyhold when that need to push back the truth of their reality would settle in and they found themselves at the bottom of whatever Dorian had brought up from the cellar, that they truly felt real. They weren't The Inquisitor or The Tevinter, they were Din'an and Dorian, they were two mortal men who enjoyed literature, history and occasionally throwing things down at Solas and snickering behind the fence like there was no way he'd known who could have thrown a copy of The History of Tevinter Fashion at him from a story up; alcohol turned them both in to Sera, which Sera of course took full advantage of.

“It was momentary muscle spasms, they're gone now” he had gotten tired of waiting for Dorian and started to stand on his own. It hurt, but he could grit his teeth and fake it, just long enough for Dorian to take notice and help him up fully “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I was sick, it's such a small thing I didn't think it worth mentioning.”

“I gave you detailed descriptions of my breakfast down to the last crumb Amatus, no detail is too small to emit” Dorian smiled “not for me.” There was silence as they walked. Din'an lead Dorian through the darkness, though most of his weight was pulling them down and making it difficult to walk quickly, they managed. Every nerve was tingling and he felt more exhausted than he'd felt in days. He hadn't managed to speak to Verya about it and in fact until now nobody had even said anything, they all seemed too scared to bring it up. But they knew, he could see it in their faces; the nightmares and the pain were one thing but the effect it had on his mood had left the Inquisition standing on their toes. 

“You didn't tell me you were coming” Din'an said as they entered the castle, far from where the party was being held. Some of the servants stopped to gape as they made their way through, though Din'an made sure to greet every Elf with “Andaran atish’an” or “Aneth ara” he simply nodded solemnly toward the humans; it was a habit he'd yet to break. Though his youth had been spent hiding in Chantry's and human libraries he was well aware of the prejudice humans held against Elves. Too many times had he been shooed away and hissed at; it had taken many months before he could properly look most nobles visiting the Inquisition in the eye. 

“Ambassador” Dorian laughed “that's what they're calling me.”

“The Magisterium cares about this?”

“They have a passing interest, but between you and me I think this may be just a ploy to get me out of Minrathous. I'm stirring the pot a little too often for their delicate sensibilities I think” Dorian felt Din'an start to pull his weight up and with each step he was growing stronger. “Feeling better?”

“How many times must I tell you I'm fine before you believe me?”

“Always once more.” Din'an chuckled and straightened his back as they came to part of the palace no longer populated by servants. He looked upon a group of men in masks with casual disinterest and walked with a strength he didn't have. He could feel their eyes as they moved past and grabbed Dorian's hand with a tight grip, he wasn't afraid of their eyes anymore, he wasn't afraid of their words, he was dying- they would mean nothing when he was cold in the ground. “Amatus-” Dorian whispered.

“Are you afraid of their whispers?”

“Never.”

“Then smile.”


End file.
